The Right Questions
by The Edgy Bubble
Summary: Scabior x Hermione: When a familiar snatcher keeps following the trio without any attempts to snatch and Hermione keeps his stalking a secret it really just comes down to asking the right questions to figure out what's going on between those two.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter1!**

**Title: **_'The Right Questions'_

**Note: **

**After seeing Deathly Hallows Part One twice already, I decided that the chemistry between Scabior (the attractive, long-haired snatcher) and Hermione, though practically one-sided, would be intriguing to write about.**

**This'll be a short-ish fic with short-ish chapters.**

**Set in a slight AU where after Harry, Hermione, and Ron had visited Xenophilius Lovegood they had actually managed to get away from Fenrir, Scabior, and the other snatchers just before they were about to be escorted to the Malfoy mansion and were still travelling the countryside for some time longer.**

**First Harry Potter fic.**

…**.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

**Enjoy!**

…

…

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

The dark figure fell onto his knees with a weak grunt of disagreement.

Three other silhouettes caught up to it, their wands pointed at him.

A hurried whisper and little flash of blue light later and the kneeling figure fell over onto the forest floor paralyzed.

All three of the chasers walked up to the slumped figure, surrounding it loosely.

"Now what do we do?" Ron asked up, out of breath but still alert with the adrenaline rush from the chase.

"I don't know." Harry responded without really thinking, turning the wand in his hand nervously as he took a few steps left towards Hermione, leaves crackling under his sneakers.  
He glanced at her.  
Even if they'd been wandering the countryside for months because of him, his instincts still told him Hermione would know what to do, as they usually did.

He didn't know he was wrong this time.

She took a moment, staring unblinkingly down at the paralyzed man, her mouth slightly open before she found something to say:  
"We need to make sure he wasn't followed. Go check ahead, I'll stay here."

"Alright." Ron agreed with a heave of breath just before he started jogging through the dark trees.  
Harry hesitated before following his friend.

"You sure you're alright?" He asked Hermione, who still hadn't looked away from the motionless heap of a man.

"Yes." She answered, blinking her dry eyes and looking over to Harry for a moment, "Go help Ronald."  
He gave her a moment longer of a glance and started jogging away as well.

A few seconds passed, the footfalls of her friends fading as she stood there in the dark breathing a little loudly having been unable to catch her breath until then.

She took a few steps toward the man, her wand still raised.

…

"Finite."

The previously motionless figure now turned on the ground gracelessly, sputtering coughs erupting from the form for only a moment.  
The man turned over on his back lazily, letting his arms reach out to their full wingspan, his lungs could finally open wider and give him the oxygen he needed. He tiredly smiled up at the pitch-black canopy of trees dozens of feet above him. He hadn't looked at her yet, but he was all too aware of the young girl pointing her wand at him, slightly shaky about it.  
He hadn't expected her to take off that jinx just now, so he found whatever scraps of manners a man like him knew.

"Thanks for that, gorgeous." His voice grunted as he finally lifted himself to his feet.

"What are you doing here?" She didn't seem to care about his thanks, or his compliment, but he couldn't be bothered by her rudeness when he was suddenly too busy picking out the orange-brown leaf bits from his long, messily tied, hair.

"What do you want with us?" She asked impatiently.

That woke him up from himself.

He looked up at the girl. She seemed to stiffen on the spot under his look. He couldn't hold back a smirk at that.

"What an interesting question…" He graded slowly. She didn't say anything. "Don't you remember who I am, girly?" He ran a hand over the top of his head, absent-mindedly slicking the long strands of hair out of his face.

She sneered at him, his smirk grew a little stronger in reaction.

"Of course I remember you." She nearly spat.

"That warms my heart." He said with a quick stab at humor, holding his ringed hand to the chest of his jacket.

"But you've been following us for days, haven't you?" She raised her voice, ignoring his comedy attempt.

Everything went quiet for a moment. She couldn't quite see in the dark, but she could swear he was smiling wider than ever now. She tried to ignore how nervous that made her feel. She forced herself to stand her ground when he took a few steps closer to her.

"Oh, so you caught on, did you?" He asked quietly. "What about your boyfriends? Do they know?" He was getting a little too close now. She held up her wand to his face.

He back away only momentarily, raising up his hands mockingly, his smile still strong.

"They aren't-" She almost argued the word 'boyfriends' before she stopped herself from being too childish, "Why have you been following us?" Her voice wavered.

"I'm a 'snatcher', darling. It's what I do." He chuckled as he said the words. She looked cute when she was nervous like this.

"Yes, but it's been days and you haven't done anything yet," she argued. "You've just been staying hidden all this time."

He suddenly felt as if she knew more than she let on.

"So if you aren't trying to snatch us, then what are you doing?" She seemed more confident now.

His smile resurfaced as he took another step closer, this time stepping to her left as to avoid the tip of her wand.  
He leaned down to her slightly, testing how close he could actually get… he was surprised she let him get this close.

"Are you sure you're asking the right questions?"

She only gave him a sideways look, displaying her own version of aggressive curiosity.

He leaned into the darkness between them closer, she didn't pull away but her eyes only grew more hateful. She knew this man had trouble staying out of her space, but she didn't like it.

"Shouldn't you be wondering _how_ I've been following you?" He pointed out slowly.  
A moment later he could tell she was about to say something, he cut her off readily.

He leaned in much closer with a quick motion, "But, more importantly, the right question for _me_ is: Why have you been _letting_ me follow you?..."

…

She could feel the air of his words against the side of her face, she nearly shuddered.

A few seconds of silence passed between them, he could hear her breathing… it was a little too fast… she was a lot more nervous than she let on, but she was too stubborn to let him see that. He was starting to like her more and more.

She parted her lips as if she was about to say something, he was almost interested in what her answer might be, but he would never know what it was going to be.

"Hermione?" A younger male voice called from the forest behind him.

Before he could turn around to see which of the boys were running up, ready to hold up his arms and accept their arrest as he figured they would do, he noticed his feet weren't on the ground, the trees were rushing past him, the wind was roaring in his ears, and there was a sudden impact of the leaf-cushioned ground against his back.

He laid strewn on the ground for a few seconds, staring up in shock.  
He finally got his bearings after a few seconds more.  
A little annoyed by how easily he's been shoved around these last few minutes he sighed gruffly as he found his footing again, but he forgot his annoyance soon enough.

"Hermione!" A second voice called the girl's name.

His body, trained by years of sneaking around, immediately found an appropriately sized tree to hide behind. He pressed his slightly sore back against the bark, listening to the voices several meters away.

"What happened?" He recognized the voice of the Dark Lord's scarred nemesis.

The snatcher's hands curled into fists, the expression on his sharp features hardened, ready to spring into a sprint as soon as that girl told those two boys which way he'd gone.

"He-uh… he must've been protected by an anti-jinx…. He got away." The girl's voice explained falsely with a slightly shaky voice.

"What, really?" The ginger boy asked, worry in his voice. "I thought a snatcher would've been too dim to think of something like that."

"We should get back to the tent." The scarred boy suggested carefully.

The man hadn't really been paying enough to the ginger's words, or any words afterward, to feel insulted; he was too busy thinking about what that girl had just said.  
He leaned the back of his head against the tree, looking up at the leaves.

Why would she do that?

Why would she lie like that?

Was she insane?

What's in it for her?

His hands loosened, but his features only grew tenser with suspicion and confusion.

There had to be a reason.

He heard the three sets of crunchy footsteps fading into the direction of their tent.  
His posture lost its tension as he guessed he was free from capture again that night.

He tightened the burgundy scarf around his neck just as the wind picked up, the leaves flipping around the barely moonlit ground, burying the tips of his boots.

He looked over the sight in front of him, the dark winter forest. Snow hadn't fallen yet, but the wind was cold enough, a few leaves spun to the ground slowly. Everything farther than ten feet was pitch black. It was like the world just stopped… it mind as well should have… there was nothing out there for him anyways.

He craned his neck to his left, looking after the sounds of the footsteps. Still leaning on the tree he rolled onto his left shoulder.  
He could see the faint glow from the little enchanted tent half a mile away.

The small world seemed a little bigger in that direction.

He pushed himself off the tree silently, tugging at the cuffs of his jacket to cover his icy palms with as much sophistication a man of his caliber could portray.

"Guess there isn't much else to do…" He made an excuse for himself as he started walking in the direction of that glowing tent, already scoping the area for any comfortable patches of leaf-cushioned roots to rest on. He considered himself lucky to be able to see the tent this time. He had sneaked inside the perimeter of the group's protective enchantments before they had been completely put up.  
He slid his hands into his pockets as he walked closer thinking about why he was here.

He felt like an idiot for being here, but he wouldn't admit that to himself.

He just needed to keep an eye on the big prize till he got a new team.

…  
Besides, he owed that girl now… he couldn't leave it at this.  
His expression hardened again.

…

He found a good spot, a tree that had tall sloping roots. He slid down against the tree to sit gently on the natural chair. He leaned against the tree, looking up at the starry bits of night-sky he could spot between the canopy leaves. He watched his icy breath form little steam clouds above him.  
He closed his eyes.

He listened to the garbled radio from the tent play some static-laced music. It didn't fit his taste, but it was better than silence. He heard the three inside the tent talking for a long time. A girl's laughter rang out for only a spare moment. He hadn't heard that sound from her before.

A smile pulled weakly at the corner of his lips, it disappeared only a second later.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

**...**

**...**

**...**

**...**

**...**

**...**

**Please review if you'd like to read more.**

**:)**


	2. Time Wasting: Part 1

**Chapter 2!**

**Title: **_'Time Wasting: Part 1'_

**Note: Don't worry, you didn't miss anything. This chapter starts at the end and explain how everything got there.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

…

…

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

…

"You're a traveler aren't you?" The gruff voice asked suddenly.

She didn't say anything, she only stood on the spot looking over the rickety counter at the dimly-lit supplies she had come to buy.

"Can I have some powdered moonstone and syrup of hellebore, as well?" She asked with as much confidence as she could fake. She really just wanted to get the ingredients and leave, but the man behind the counter didn't make any move to get either the jar of silver powder or the translucent gourd of purple muck behind him.

"What're you traveling around for?" The large man asked inarticulately.

"Family vacation." She lied with a plain face, not looking at the burly shopkeeper, "If you have a moleskin bag, I'd-"

"I don't think you're telling the truth." The man interrupted with a rude tone quickly.

Her hand in her pocket gripped the handle of her wand nervously.

"We've got a few warnings 'round here that a girl and pair of boys might be wandering the area." The man stated with an edging tone. "Truants." He explained shortly. She knew she should've considered herself lucky that that's all he thought she was: only a truant student from Hogwarts, and not what she really was: a muggle-born truant and accomplice of Harry Potter.  
She started running all the possible confusion-jinxes through her head, trying to pick which one would be powerful enough to make this man forget about his suspicions without causing a scene.

The man was already walking around the old counter, breaking the usual setup between seller and buyer, "They said she was a mudblood. That whoever carts her and the boys off to the Ministry would get fifty galleons."

Her brow tensed slightly after he said the last word of the first sentence.

"I just want to buy some supp-" She tried to reason with him one last time, her hand ready to pull out her wand, but she was interrupted.

"I think you should come with me." The man reached out a large hand, about to grab her arm.

She was already mouthing the incantation 'confundus' before she was interrupted again, this time by an unexpected source.

"There you are, beautiful."

She looked over to the doorway at the last man she had expected to be standing there.

...

… … … … … … The Night Before… … … … … …

…

"We should get back to the tent." Harry suggested. She broke her mile long stare into the direction she had jinxed the snatcher only minutes before to look at Harry and nod swiftly.

Even when they had made it back to the tent, Ronald and Harry still busy talking about building up better protective wards, she couldn't tear her mind away from what had happened.

Only five minutes before she had been sitting in the tent, rereading the little periwinkle book of children's story –which now looked ten years older than it already was since she had been flipping through it so much-, when she heard Ronald shout something.  
She had run out of the tent as quickly as possible but she was already behind, Harry and Ronald were running in a single direction. She followed after them, too.  
Hermione had actually figured out who exactly they were chasing before the boys did.

They had caught up with him… but she let him go.

Even now, she wasn't sure that if _she_ had been the one to see him tonight, instead of Ronald, whether or not she would've… whether or not she would've done anything.

She didn't like the way that made her feel like a traitor.

She collapsed on her cot, sitting upright, with a sigh. She tried to pay attention to what they were saying, but she couldn't quite focus.

She could still feel that man's breath along her skin. It was only a memory her nerve-endings had randomly decided to remember longer than other sensations, it didn't mean anything more than that…. But it still tickled a little. It was only slightly uncomfortable.

She rubbed her cheek with her cold hand.  
The feeling didn't go away.

… … ...

She opened her eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the orange morning light filtering gently through the fabric of the tent.

She sat up, a little sore, she was used to that. These cots weren't the most comfortable things to sleep on, but still, she didn't complain.

She tip-toed through the tent as quietly as she could, trying not to wake up the boys. It was normal for her to get up earlier than them. Harry wouldn't be up for a while; it had been his turn last night to guard the tent. She looked over at him, messily wrapped in a loosely knit blanket, his glasses in his hand. Ronald snored loudly at that moment, as if even in his sleep he was still eager to get her attention. She smiled weakly. She felt like she should be doing more for them.

She had forgotten to brace herself before stepping out of the tent. The cold air nipped the inside of her lungs as soon as she took a breath. She realized that the days were getting colder. Her breathing hissed a little in reaction to the sudden chill, she scrunched up her shoulders and crossed her arms over her chest. She took a few steps out of the tent about ready to start a little fire for some sort of warmth. She looked into the trees, aimlessly looking… looking for a sign that their stalker was still around… she couldn't see anything.

She looked away slowly, her shoulders slumping a few inches.

She noticed that their little pile of firewood was a little small.  
She decided to get some more.

Just in case.

She knew she didn't really need any firewood to make a small flame to warm her hands… but she found herself putting on her boots and grabbing a thicker jacket out of her purse, ready to look for more firewood, and herbs.

They _were_ running out of monkshood and fluxweed. And if she could find some boom berries, maybe she could make some pepperup for the boys.

She thought through all the responsible reasons, trying to ignore the one particularly irresponsible reason, why she couldn't help but stray away from the tent this morning.

… … … …

He woke up numb and warm at the same time.

His chest and arms had heated each other overnight, but his couldn't feel his hands or face.

He grunted a little loudly as he moved his arms, stretching them out, trying to thaw out the stiffness of his muscles which felt like they'd been frozen on the inside despite their warmth. He stretched his legs out too, slumping against the tree as he did.  
He rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand, letting the left run along his frozen face.

His normal morning ritual of reacquainting his body with movement was cut short just as he opened his eyes at a peculiar smell.  
His sense of smell had always been something of a prideful attribute for him, almost as if he was meant for a life as a hunter, he could pick up on little hints of scents without trying. This time it wasn't a pleasant scent, but it _was_ familiar.  
Salty copper.  
He quickly sat up.

He hadn't missed it, had he?

He immediately thought some other pack of snatchers had come through here and stolen his prey out from under him, leaving a blood-trail behind. He turned around, facing the shoddy-looking tent. It seemed just as pathetic as usual. No carnage.  
Something like relief threatened him, but he was too distracted by that when he saw his right hand.  
Browning blood was baking onto his skin in thick trails down his palm and into his sleeve.

"Shit." He cursed quietly to himself as he took a closer look at his hand.

It must've gotten busted the night before, he hadn't even noticed. Even now, he was too numb to feel any pain when he rubbed the palm of his hand against his jacket. But what did stop him from wiping the wound on his hand any harder was a sound.  
Leaves crackling.

Footsteps.

Without thinking he immediately stood against the tree he had just slept by, aligning his back with the bark to stay hidden, craning his neck to his right to try and see who it was.

The girl walked into his view without noticing him.

He immediately slouched back down with a silent sigh.  
He gave her a second glance over for a moment, eyeing her in a way she definitely wouldn't have liked. She was wearing a baggy jacket and unflattering boots, but he still loved the look of her. He absentmindedly started to play with the ring on his finger as he took a few silent steps closer to her.

"Aren't you supposed to be the smart one of the lot?" He piped up rudely. She spun around to face him. He didn't give her a moment to think through that before he continued. "There're loads of nasty villains in these woods, little girls aren't supposed to go off on their own." He teased.

He didn't fight back the slimy sort of smirk that pulled at his lips when he saw her wide-eyed face again. He was starting to like her face like that too much.

She huffed a breath for a moment, shifting her booted feet awkwardly, her mouth slightly open with surprise, before she could say the first thought in her head.

"You're still here." She stated the obvious.

"Of course I am, lovely. I don't give up easily." He answered truthfully.  
She only gave him a look. One that he could tell she tried to make look angry.  
She still looked completely nervous.

She racked her brain for words, trying to remember how to talk properly. But every time she came face to face with this man, a man who represented the worst fate her and her friends could succumb to, she always found herself stumbling over her sentences. She really didn't like that.  
When she did realize what she wanted to say, to ask, she realized she had already asked him that question several times already.  
_'Why are you following us?'  
_He hadn't answered her.  
She tried to assume some sort of confidence, some sort of nonchalance. She glanced over the ground, she saw a small patch of valerian sprouts. She really had no use for valerian sprouts, unless she wanted to mix a cauldron of Draught of Living Death… or make treacle fudge…..

She ended up kneeling down to collect some of the sprouts anyways, just so that she wouldn't have to look him in the eye and mess up her words.

"You never answered my questions." She said quietly, but with forced strength.

He smiled.

He saw through her little act.

But he was mostly surprised that in her attempt to distance herself from him, she seemed to actually be striking up a conversation. This girl was starting to make less and less sense... and now he was even more interested.

"You never answered mine."  
He pointed out smoothly, leaning against a tree in front of her. She looked up and gave him a delicate sneer. He only looked down at her with a plain face. He wanted to laugh at her… or possibly to reach down and pull that fragile face to his, he wasn't sure right now.

She must've known what was going through his head; she was already walking away before he noticed.

She was heading back to the tent.  
He wouldn't be able to talk to her once she's around her boyfriends.  
He found himself talking before he intended.

"My team's been –uh- disbanded." His sentence paused at the moment he realized he had probably damaged his aloof image by answering her question so quickly. He had picked a weak word for what had happened, but he didn't need to get into the gruesome details.  
She turned back to him, her eyes completely focused on him.  
"I'm just keeping my eye on a valuable target… until I get a new team." He explained slowly.

She took a step closer to him.

"How are you going to get a new team?" She asked with a rude curiosity. "You're all by yourself." She added.  
He smiled down at her as if she was a child that had just said something foolish.

"You three are the biggest bounty in the wizarding world…. Believe me, other's will come for you."

Her jaw tensed, her eyes grew worried. That seemed to have scared her a little.  
He wanted to say more, see how many more expressions he could make her honest face show him, but…

"Hermione?"

The ginger butted in, he was calling for her.  
The snatcher's smile turned into an annoyed grimace as he backed away from the girl and out of sight.  
She was still staring after him for a moment longer until Ronald came up to her.

"Were you talking just now?" He asked curiously, looking into the trees behind her as if he was expecting some sort of friendly visit from an ally.

"Er, no…" She answered weakly, "I was just talking to myself about the… um… the supplies we need." She covered a little hurriedly, she couldn't stop herself from guiltily adding more, "I was actually planning on going to that town nearby and see if they had anything."

"Oh…" Ron seemed a little confused, "Are you sure that's alright, Hermione?" He asked. "I mean, we just found a snatcher wandering around the forest last night. What if he's still out there?"

Hermione stiffened on the spot. Ron had no idea how right he was.  
But, for whatever reason she couldn't think through responsibly she said:

"I don't think so, he didn't look like he was going to stay. I think we scared him off."

"Alright."

Ronald still seemed a little confused. Hermione made her way to the tent, holding the sprouts in a little bag. She was trying to leave the conversation at that.

"How 'bout I go with you just in case he comes back." He offered as he followed after her.

This time she had a responsible answer.

"We can't leave Harry or the tent by himself. You need to stay here and keep watch." She answered as she sorted the plants in the category box they dedicated for herbs.

"Oh, right." He agreed, looking up at the treetops momentarily before he thought of his next words. "Are you really sure you'll be alright, then?"

"Of course. I can take care of myself." She tried to sound confident, but much like she had failed when talking to that man, she didn't sound all that convincing.

Ronald gave her one last worried look, a nod, and then went off to fiddle with the radio again.

… … …

He hadn't been able to hear much of her conversation with that ginger, most of it just sounded like useless tension-filled blabber between two attracted teenagers –he had picked up on a certain vibe between those two… he wasn't a fan of the idea of the girl and that dork ginger together-, but he had heard something he took note of:

'_I was actually planning on going to that town nearby and see if they had anything.'_

He was really starting to doubt her position as 'the smart one' of the bunch.

… … …

She walked through the trees, paying more attention than usual to every tree, every sound, keeping a look out for the man she had talked to that morning. She kind of hoped she wouldn't run into him again, but her hopes would go unnoticed.

"I wouldn't go any further, love." Said his accented voice.

She didn't stop. She wasn't going to stay around and talk to him only for him to give her strange stares and mock her. Besides, she shouldn't even be talking to him at all. He was the enemy. The fact she didn't turn around and hex him right now was bad enough, talking to him, as if he's a person she could actually want to hold a conversation with, was worse.

"You'll only get trouble." She could tell he was walking behind her, but she didn't know he was enjoying the view.  
She only sighed with unrestrained aggravation, "You'd know about trouble, wouldn't you?" She asked without looking for an answer.

"I _am_ trouble."  
His voice coiled through the air with a teasing tone.

She didn't think before talking again, but she didn't regret it.

"Then if you're so worried about me, stay away."

She kept walking, her boots mashing the leaves noisily. She waited for some sort of snide remark or retort.  
But there was nothing.

She slowed to a stop. She turned around.  
He was gone.

She sighed again. This time she didn't realize it was out of disappointment.

She started walking to the town again, her thoughts still on him.

… … …

He ran those words through his head again.

'_Then if you're so worried about me, stay away.'_

Was she mad?

Or more stupid than anyone could give her credit for?

There's no bleeding way he could be 'worried' about her.

If anything he just wanted to make sure her price wouldn't go down if she turns into damaged goods.

He paced the forest floor with more agitation than he realized.

He doesn't care about her.  
Just the galleons she's worth.

…

He paused for a moment.

…

"Argh." With an angry growl he turned on the spot, his jacket rushing behind him as he started in the direction she had gone.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

…

…

…

…

…

…

**Next chapter!**


	3. Time Wasting: Part 2

**Chapter 3!**

**Title: **_'Time Wasting: Part 2'_

**Note: Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

"I think you should come with me." The man reached out a large hand, about to grab her arm.

She was already mouthing the incantation 'confundus' before she was interrupted again, this time by an unexpected source.

"There you are, beautiful." Another voice suddenly entered the dank shop, a man's voice coated with a thick accent and an unnaturally sweet tone.

They both looked towards the doorway just as the grungy owner of that voice was stepping further into the store, his hands in the leather pockets of his jacket. They both looked at him with the same expression: wide-eyed confusion.

Though Hermione found herself with more of a reason to feel so confused when the man deliberately walked up to her side and placed a hand on her waist.

She nearly punched him away, but he was already talking again.

"I thought I'd lost you." He practically crooned down at her with his own invention of an innocent smile, it still seemed completely crooked.  
Unnatural.

"What are you, her uncle?" The broad-shouldered shopkeeper asked with a mean tone. Hermione poked her elbow into his side, trying to push him off, his hand only tightened on her almost painfully.

"Was he giving you trouble?" The man whose hand was slinking farther along her waist in a way an uncle would never do. Hermione's teeth grated slightly in reaction, just as he finished asking her that question with a worry-saturated voice. He looked down at her wearing a fake expression of concern, his brows peaking upward sharply.  
She just stared up at him as if she was wondering if he had gone crazy.  
Somewhere in his head he was wondering the same thing.  
But he didn't care what the answer was.  
He was having fun with this.

He looked away from the girl next to him, still wanting to see more of the ridiculous expression she had on. His eyes met the other man's.

"Because we can always take our money elsewhere…" The snatcher used words that sounded unevenly proper with his street-accent.

'_Our money'?_ Hermione thought to herself incredulously.

The shop-owner suddenly seemed to lose his suspicions, but he sounded annoyed when he spoke up again.

"Er, sorry, I thought she was-"

"You were wrong." The snatcher's voice hardened with only those words.

Hermione looked up at the man by her side, about ready to try and push him away again, but the look in his eyes stopped her.

He was only looking at the shop owner but he looked so… serious.

Like he was trying to stare him down or something.

The look in his eyes was almost… predatorial.  
Like he was claiming his prey in front of another scavenger.

Hermione glanced over to the other man. He seemed a little lost, like he forgot how to speak for a moment.  
That was strange.

She had thought that this snatcher was only show. That he only had his fake charm and wicked sarcasm… she was starting to think otherwise.

Something about him was actually… different… than she thought.

"Now, if you get what she asked for we can leave you and this depressing little pit of an establishment and get going on our merry way, then."

The store owner gave him a surprised look, like he was shocked by this man's rudeness.

The snatcher smiled down at her.

… … …

Silently leaving the shop, carrying a bag, of supplies and walking back down the path that led to the forest, with a snatcher walking by her side, took up ten of the most confusingly awkward minutes Hermione had had to endure since the incident at the Ministry.

Even as they were already halfway back she had no idea why he was still walking with her.

What was he expecting?

She glanced over at him, having to look up slightly to see his face. He was expressionless. She looked away again, annoyed.

Why couldn't he leave her alone?

What did he want?

Thanks?

That was a rich thought. Why would she thank him?  
She broke the silence with that thought.

"I would've been fine if you had left me alone." She didn't like how genuinely ungrateful she sounded. But she did everything under control, everything could've been fixed with a simple jinx, it didn't have to turn into a scene.

"Do you really believe that?" He didn't sound at all curious, more like he was just telling her flat-out how wrong she was.

"Then why'd you help me, if I was so helpless?" Hermione nearly spat the question.

He really didn't like that question.  
He was still asking himself that.

"I guess, I'm a pretty helpful bloke, really." He tried to pass it off with sarcasm.

She turned to him with a glare. He saw it in the corner of his eye but didn't react like he wanted.  
She huffed a little, her eyebrows tense and pulling together with irritation.

"You didn't seem so helpful when you were going to let Fenrir Greyback bite me." Her tone sharpened with impatience, she was regretting his company more and more by the moment.

"I told him he shouldn't." The snatcher corrected her lightly, "Besides, I couldn't blame the big guy… biting is just a way for him to let you know he likes you…" He understated with some humor, "Like a dog humping a leg."

She sighed, more irritation in her breath than had been in her voice.  
He couldn't blame her.  
He wasn't all that impressed with himself either. Here he was, talking to his eventual paycheck so casually, unable to kidnap her now and get it over with… unable to bring himself to…  
He wiped that slip of thought from his head.

Instead, he forced himself to find an excuse for his actions, one he said aloud so they both weren't confused about this any longer. So neither of them could get the wrong idea.

"I don't like owing anybody." He admitted, "Now we're even." His voice softened unintentionally with that.

She thought through those words… She couldn't really believe them…  
How could a man like him have any sort of honor-code to live by?

They were quiet for a moment longer.

She could barely muscle her way past the strangeness of this situation, walking and talking –even this rudely- with a snatcher like this, to ask something.

"Is that really it?" Her voice wasn't as annoyed anymore.

He only thought about that question for a split second before responding.

"What other reason is there?" His voice picked up a little. "I know a man without a team isn't as intimidating as one with, but I'm still the same man, girl." He looked over at her, now she was the one who wouldn't look at him, she was staring at the bag in her hand. "If I had enough men under my lead I would take all three of you one by one to You-Know-Who in an instant." His voice grew lower, even bitter. "Starting with you." He added, another smirk growing on his lips at the thought.

He waited for her nervous reply.

But she wasn't nervous right now. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

"So… you're admitting that you're too weak by yourself."

She couldn't even collect her thoughts about what she just said and what she wondered he would retort with before a deep thud ran through her back, the bag of moonstone powder and hellebore syrup fell to the ground, the jars clinking together weakly.  
Just as soon as her brain could process the moment of sudden movement and the tight vises on her arms she realized she was looking the snatcher in the eye. His face closer to hers than it had been since the day him and his team had first captured them.

She could feel the warmth of his skin only inches from hers. The coarseness of his hands wrapped around her arms, lifting them above her head, the strange sensation of his fingers rubbing over her skin slightly. She leaned away from his face, the back of her head was stopped by the bark of the tree she was pinned against. He took a step closer, he breathed in deeply at the same time. She wanted to turn her head away from him, but she didn't. His face lingered next to hers for only a few more seconds before he leaned away just an inch.  
She saw again, his pale blue eyes up close.  
She couldn't look away.

"You've no idea what I'm capable of, love." His voice seemed so different now, but… real…  
Like this is what he really sounded like.  
"I'm a man. You're a little girl." He said slowly, looking down at her without tilting his head forward. He let his hands slide up her arms, his fingers pressing against her skin tightly. She tried to pry her arms away from the tree and out of his reach, but she couldn't. His hands slid up and closed around her wrists.

He leaned in again, even closer.

His lips were only millimeters away from her own, she was almost afraid that if she breathed they would touch.  
That was until he spoke again.

"You can't imagine what I could do to you." He whispered, his accent bending the words. His lips grazed hers with every syllable until he turned his head right and leaned forward. He let his lips graze along her jaw. He inhaled deeply.

This had gone far enough for her. She lifted her foot and let it fall back down with as much force she could create onto his foot, he winced for a moment, his hands paying less attention to her wrists for that moment. It was all she needed to worm out of his hold.  
In only moments her wand was in hand, the tip poised at the underside of his jaw.

He looked down at her with unchanged eyes… as if he was still only inches from her face, as if his hands were still holding her against her will. She pressed her wand against his skin a little harder.

His right hand grabbed hers sharply. "You can't do any real harm. You can only play with little jinxes and hexes." He told her.

She noticed trails of red-brown staining his skin, a deep gash peaking around the side of his hand…

"You don't know what I'm capable of." She gave him back his own words.

"I know you're not like me…"  
His voice didn't sound angry or scary or even proud… it was like he was just telling her a fact.

In only a instant after he said those words, three other words had blinded him and took away his ability to follow her as she ran off.

"Obscuro. Locomotor mortis." She said the incantations shakily just before grabbing the bag and running.

Even when she got to the tent and caught her breath her heart was still beating a mile a minute.

… … …

After spending an hour lying blind and motionless on the forest floor he made his way back to the tree that had served as a chair the night before. The sun was already setting again.

He still couldn't believe himself.

He should be getting out of this, he should just leave all this and let somebody else deal with these three… and that girl…. but here he was.

He must've been daft.

Out of his mind.

Mad.

…

But again… he couldn't really care.

…

He remembered the trace feeling of her lips on his own.

… … …

"It's my turn to guard tonight, get some sleep." She reminded Harry and Ron just as they went back to the tent to settle and sleep. She stayed outside, by the little fire.  
She hadn't been able to make the pepperup for them yet.

She took out her small cauldron and started the easy potion. The hardest part of the potion was the wait. It could take hour for all the ingredients to boil down right. But even as she measured everything out and poured it all into the cauldron she couldn't tear her mind away from something else.  
Someone else.

His words kept tumbling in her mind.

'_I know you're not like me….'_

The way he said that. So clearly. As if he was… complimenting her.

… That was so strange….

Something about that man was… he wasn't exactly who she thought he was.

She rubbed her wrists, which were still a little pink from his hands.

She wondered if she was only looking too far into things. Maybe she was just seeing what she wanted to see. Maybe she was wasting her time thinking about this. She added three boom berries at once.  
She looked at her right hand. She remembered his.

The gash running along his palm.  
She looked over to the area she had met him this morning.  
She wondered if he was there.

She sighed.

She remembered the first time she realized he was following them. She had been resetting the protective wards while Harry and Ronald were in the tent talking, and just like that… she found him. She had thought he had been waiting for one of them to find him, that he had his whole team hiding somewhere, but after a moment she realized he was alone. He had been sleeping. It was strange to see a man that could make her heart grow heavy with fear just sleeping so soundly.  
Maybe it was because of how harmless he seemed at that time, but she hadn't said anything. Even now she couldn't explain why. Why would she let a snatcher like him go?  
Why would she let him follow them?

She was starting to feel guiltier.

Maybe she had planned on keeping him around as a last resort, someone to interrogate if they ever needed answers…  
She knew that wasn't it.

But just as soon as she was about to run out of questions or excuses she noticed something.

Ron's sneakoscope.

It had been sitting out here, resting against the low-tuned radio for hours. Ronald had been hovering over it all day, checking to see if any enemies were around.

…

And there it was… just laying there, quiet and dark.

…

Her heart started beating a little quickly.

She grabbed her wand.

"Homenum revelio" Hermione whispered under her breath.

Sure enough, a small white whisper of light emanated from her wand and pointed weakly towards the spot the snatcher and her had talked that morning.

He was still here.

She looked over to the sneakoscope again, as if expecting it to suddenly jump up and start ringing.  
It didn't.

She would've thought that the sneakoscope was broken, but it had worked only a few days before when a small gang of delinquents had passed by, unable to see the tent because of the charms. But that man had been following them for days and the sneakoscope… it hadn't done a thing.

…

He wasn't an enemy?

…

She couldn't quite accept that. She couldn't go against all her logic and forget what that man really was…  
But she still felt it… something about him was... different.

She turned her wand in her wand nervously for a moment as she pulled her knees against her chest, waiting for the cauldron to bubble into a pale green color…  
After minutes of hesitation she lifted her wand, pointing it in the direction her previous spell had shown her.

"Ferula."

… … … …

Kicking leaves and playing with the ring on his finger out of boredom, still deep in thought about why he's wasting his time here, he was distracted by all that when a small white object suddenly appeared only a few feet away from where he was standing.  
He picked it up curiously, his eyebrows pulling together slightly out of confusion.  
The moonlight made the object a pale blue color.

It was a little roll of bandaging.

He stared at it for a moment.

He turned towards the tent. She was sitting in front of a fire-heated cauldron, her knees brought up to her chin. He could tell she was looking over here every few seconds.

He really couldn't understand whatever this meant, but he opened the gauze roll and started wrapping it around his hand.

He knew, at least, that this was the start of more things he wouldn't understand, but… he didn't really care.  
He glanced over his shoulder one last time at the girl who was now stirring the cauldron with an intense expression.

He looked away and tied off the bandgage.  
He stopped asking himself why he was wasting his time here.

… … … … … … … …. … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

**I'll be writing the next chapter as soon as possible.  
It'll be getting a little… uh… darker. Hopefully that's alright with everyone.**

**Reviews are welcome!**


End file.
